Vinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.xVinaora Nivo Slider 3.x

Interview at the Dog Pound written by Sally Hull

As a journalist, I decided to go to the dog pound, and interview some of the " inmates". I wanted to know what it was like in there from their perspective. What follows is not for the faint of heart.

I entered the building, and one of the workers accompanied me to the holding area.This is where dogs are kept before they are allowed up for adoption ...If they are allowed up for adoption. If the dogs are found to be aggressive in any way, euthanasia is employed. Fortunately, if " fortunately" is the word to be used here...this is a Canadian establishment, and they use lethal injection, not a gas chamber.

The pound worker led me past a big steel door that says "Employees Only". " What is in there? " I asked. From the look he gave me, I knew that this is where some dogs go, and never return.

We moved on to a row of kennels. The dogs were barking loudly, there was the acrid smell of urine and feces, and a feeling of despair seemed to permeate the room. " Go ahead," the worker said. " They're all yours."

Petey

I looked into the first kennel, and saw only the back of a medium sized dog who was curled up in the corner of his kennel, shivering. He was mostly white, with some black spots. " Hello?" I said. " May I come in?" He lifted his head, as though it weighed more than he could bear. When he looked at me, I could see he was a Pit Bull. His eyes were gentle, but filled with grief. " Enter, " was all he said.

I stepped in, closing the gate behind me. He put his head back down, facing away from me. I crouched down a few feet away.

" My name is Pete. Petey my Master called me," he said, still not looking at me.

" Why are you here Pete?" I asked.

" I am here because Master cannot afford to move to another province. I am here because someone with power said I am vicious, and a killer. Someone who never met me. Master took me for a walk one day, and some lady started to scream when she saw me. I got frightened, and barked at her. The dog police came, and they took me away. I have been with Master for 10 years. The last time I saw him, he just held me and cried. He kept telling me he was sorry. I worry for him. Whatever will he do without me ? " Pete shivered even more. A tear slid down my face. I am supposed to remain objective, but this was wrong ... so wrong.

" Thank you Pete." I said. He said nothing as I got up and left his kennel.

Popper

The kennel next to Pete's held a very young looking dog. Pure Border Collie by my guess. He stood on his hind legs, looking at me through the gate.

" Hello. My name's Popper. He tilted his head. " Are you here to take me home?"

" No, I'm sorry," I replied. " But I would like to talk with you."

" Sure. What would you like to talk about?"

" Popper, how did you come to be in this place?" I asked.

Popper dropped down from the gate, with a perplexed look on his face. He walked to the back of the kennel, then back to the front. I noticed he had one blue eye, and one brown. He was quite beautiful. His black and white coat was shiny and thick.

" I am not certain WHY I am here. I think maybe my family will come back for me. They bought me when I was only 6 weeks old. I remember they said how intelligent Border Collies are, and how it would be so easy to train me. they were very excited at first. The little ones played with me all the time. But the trouble is with little Masters, they refuse to stay in a group. I constantly had to nip their heels to keep them together." He looked confused. " Why won't they stay in a group?" he sighed. " So I did what I thought I should do. I am not quite sure why the little ones screamed when I did my job, but they did , and the Masters got very angry at me. They also got angry when I had to relieve myself, and did so in the house. I am not sure where they expected me to go. All they said was that I was the smartest breed in the world, and I should just KNOW better. Then they left me in the yard for a month or so. I got bored a lot, and I dug holes in the grass. The next thing I knew, the Masters brought me here."

Popper jumped back up on the gate, his white paws protruding through the links. He looked at me with his lovely eyes, and asked " Will you please let them know I want to come home? Please tell them I promise I will be good."

" I will Popper," I said.

Spartan

My heart was breaking. I was beginning to regret coming here, but their stories had to be told. I moved along. The next dog I saw looked to be easily 100 lbs.,a Rottweiler. He was handsome indeed, except for the scars on his face and back. He tilted his head, and looked me right in the eyes.

" Hello. Who are you?" he asked.

" I am a reporter," I replied. "May I speak with you for a little while?"

" Most certainly. My name is Spartan. You can come in, I won't bite," he said.

" Thank you Spartan. I will."

I entered his kennel, reached out and stroked his giant head. He made a loud grumbling noise, and closed his eyes.

" Spartan, why are you here?"

Before he could answer my question, he was suddenly in the grip of a nasty coughing spasm. It sounded painful.

" Please excuse me," he said when it passed. " Kennel cough. It seems all of us who come in here get it." " Why am I here? Well, about two years ago, I was born in the backyard of some person I can't even recall. I had 11 brothers and sisters. I recall a day when a big man came and gave that person some money, and took me away from my mother. They had to chain her up, as she was very angry that he took me. They chained her and beat her. I came to know the man by the name of Jim. I overheard him telling his friends that I would grow up to be big and mean like my mother. But as I grew older, all I wanted to do was play and be friends with everybody. Jim said I needed to be taught how to be mean, so he chained me up in the yard. No more house for me, he said, I was too spoiled. When people came by to visit, I was so happy to see them. I wanted them to come near, I would roll onto my back so he would know I wasn't a bad dog. That made him beat me more." spartan's eyes clouded with grief. " Then he brought me here."

I reached out and stroked Spatan's massive gentle head once more. " I am sorry Spartan. some people are just plain evil." I gave him a kiss and left his kennel. as I walked away, Spartan called out, " What will happen to me, nice lady?"

I shook my head. " I can't say Spartan. Maybe someone kind will come and get you. We can only hope."

Patsy

I walked a little further down. I could see a shape moving at the back of the next kennel. ' Hello?" I called out. Suddenly the shape lunged at the gate in a fury, barking and gnashing its teeth. I stumbled backwards, and crashed into an adjacent kennel. The other dogs began barking loudly and jumping at their gates.

" Don't go near her, " a small female voice came from behind me. " She's mad."

I gathered myself back together, and saw a little brown and white Jack Russell terrier behind me.

" Thanks for the warning," I was stilltrembling. across the way, the other dog, apparently a Husky and German Shephard cross, was glaring at me, lips curled back revealing brown stained teeth. Her ribs and hips showed through her dull, matted grey coat. The little dog invited me into her kennel, and I gladly went in.

" Who are you?"

" My name is Patsy." the little brown and white dog held a paw up in greeting.

" My owner surrendered me. She said she wanted a cute little dog like the one on the TV show, Frasier. She didn't bother to look into the type of dog I am." Pasty heaved a sigh. " I suppose she expected me to just lie about and only need a short walk each day, just like Eddie, but my energy was so high that I needed to run and play." She glanced at her surroundings. " Now I am here. I suppose it could be worse. I could be like .... her." Patsy looked towards the still growling dog across the way.

" What happened to make her so vicious?" I asked.

" From what we could gather," she replied. " She was found tied in a backyard. She only had a three foot chain. Some days there was no water. Rarely was there any food. One day a nice neighbour came by and brought her some meat. By then it was too late. She was already mad. She broke off her chain, and bit the poor man badly. We know she will be going behind the steel door. I am sad to say, I think it will be best. Perhaps then she will know some peace."

Just then, the door at the end of the building opened, and a woman stepped inside. All the dogs began to bark wildly, then one by one, they went quiet. I whispered tp Patsy, " Who is that? Why have all the dogs gone quiet?"

Patsy breathed deeply through her little nose, and closed her eyes. " SHE is a Rescuer. Can't you smell it?" she asked.

" Smell what?" I was confused.

" Compassion. Love. Sorrow. It emanates from her pores. She is here for one of us, but nobody knows who just yet." Patsy looked hopeful.

The Rescuer moved from kennel to kennel, looking at each dog. I sat quietly watching. I could see tears in her eyes as she made eye contact with each one. She stopped at Spartan's cage and spoke quietly to him.

" No more beatings my man. No more. You are coming with me. From here on  in, it's all going to get better." The Rescuer produced a leash, opened the kennel door, and took Spartan away. As he walked beside her, his little stubby tail wagged with delight. Patsy sighed again. I could see the disappointment in her eyes, and it grieved me. They all had the same look, as they watched The Rescuer depart.

" I am so sorry Patsy," I said in a whisper. " But you are a little dog, and everyone loves little dogs. I am convinced you will be rescued soon." Patsy's brown eyes twinkled at me, a little bit of hope returning.

I had heard and seen enough. I needed to tell people how it was for these unfortunate creatures. They were all here through no fault of their own. I stood to leave. I passed by many other dogs I did not interview, looking at each one, wishing I could take them all home with me and give them the love they deserved.

 I stood by the door taking one last glance back, when it opene, and one of the pound workers came in. His face was drawn and sad. He walked by without a word, and stopped at Pete's kennel. I heard him take a deep breath, then he paused, and opened the kennel door. The words were muffled, but I am sure I heard him say," I'm sorry old boy." He came out, with Petey in tow. The old dog's head hung down in resignation, and they both disappeared behind the big steel door.

Copyright Sally Hull 2006

Please contact for permission to post or print this story. 

Paleofloods in the Red River Basin, Manitoba's Mineral Resources

http://www.gov.mb.ca/stem/mrd/geo/pflood/pastflood.html

Here's a little more information that I dug up in my research about the 1826 flood I thought might be interesting. Taken from the Geolgical Survey.

The current Red River oak record extends back to AD 1286 and documents changes in environmental conditions over the last seven hundred years.

Extreme floods, such as the 1950 flood or larger, cause oak to develop distintive anatomical markers, or "flood rings", that can be used to identify older and previously unknown Red River floods. Tree rings provide an extended flood record for the lower Red River ( between Winnipeg and Morris) that extends from AD 1648 to 1999. This technique has identified seven high-magnitude floods during the last 350 years: 1997, 1979, 1950, 1852, 1826, 1762 and 1747.

Although the five most recent flood rings are coincident with known high-magnitude floods, signatures in 1747 and 1762 predate local instrumental and historical flood records and represent previously unknown floods. Flood rings also document Red River floods in North Dakota and Minnestota in AD 1510, 1538, 1658, 1682, 1726, 1727, 1741, 1747 and 1762.

Major Findings

- The 1826 flood was the most severe event since at least AD 1648

- The risk of flooding has changed several times during the last 350 years. Although the mechanisms responsible for these changes are not yet understood, we clearly cannot assume that the pattern of recent flooding will continue indefinitely into the future.

- Future flood risks should use techniques that account for non-stationairity and non-randomness intoduced by climatic and landscape changes.

* for a larger view go to the Forces of Nature Picture file 

 

From time to time people tell me, " Lighten up, it's just a dog," or, " that's a lot of money for just a dog." They don't understand the distance traveled, time spent, or costs involved for " Just a dog." Some of my proudest moments have come about with " Just a dog." many hours have passed with my only company being " Just a dog," and not once have I felt slighted. Some of my saddest moments were brought about by "Just a dog." In those days of darkness, the gentle comfort and purpose to overcome the day.

If you, too, think its "Just a dog,"you will probably understand phrases like " Just a friend,""Just a sunrise," or "Just a promise.""Just a dog" brings into my life the very essence of friendship, trust, and pure unbridled joy. " Just a dog"brings out the compassion and patience that makes me a better person. Because of " Just a dog"I will rise early, take long walks and look longingly to the future.

For me and folks like me, it's not " Just a dog." It's an embodiment of all the hopes and dreams of the future, the fond memories of the past, and the pure joy of the moment. " Just a dog" brings out what's good in me and diverts my thoughts away from myself and the worries of the day.

I hope that someday people can understand it's not " Just a dog." It's the thing that gives me humanity and keeps me from being " Just a man or woman."

So the next time you hear the phrase" Just a dog," smile , because they " Just Don't Understand."

- Author Unknown, sent in by Wally.

Here's some words to live by:

- The reason a dog has so many friends is that he wags his tail instead of his tongue - Anonymous

- There is no psychiatrist in the world like a puppy licking your face - Ben Williams

- A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself - Josh Billings

- The average dog is a nicer person than the average person - Andy Rooney

- Anybody who doesn't know what soap tastes like never washed a dog - Franklin P. Jones

- If your dog is fat, you aren't getting enough exercise - unknown

- My dog is worried about the economy because Alpo is up to $ 3.00 a can. That's almost $ 21.00 in dog money - Joe Weinstein

- If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous, he will not bite you : that is the principal difference between a dog and a man. - Mark Twain

- Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole - Roger Caras

- If you think dogs can't count, try putting three dog biscuits in your pocket and then give him only two of them - Phil Pastoret 

A lady was telling her neighbor that she saw a man driving a pick-up truck down the Interstate, and a dog was hanging onto the tail gate for dear life! She said if the pick-up truck driver hadn't been going so fast in the other direction, she would have tried to stop him. A few weeks later, her neighbor saw this truck at the Bass Pro Shop in Daphne, Alabama !The pick-up truck driver is a local taxidermist with a great sence of humor, ( and it is not a dog, it is a Coyote)! Can you just image how many people try and stop this guy?

January 1, 2009

What a great way to start off the New Year by taking the dogs to the park for a nice walk, or so I thought!

Once again people obviously need a reminder of the rules at LMP. Yes, another incident occurred, which included three dogs chasing my dog into a tree and of course he sustained an injury.

First of all, I admit to not handing the situation to the best of my ability and yes I ended up yelling at the woman since she obviously needed and deserved it !

Instead of an apology and asking if my dog was Ok she decided to babble on an on about how the situation required me to be calm as my dog literally cried in pain for what seemed like a solid minute. I was attempting to physically check him out and calm him while pushing her dogs away from my injured dog. She was told by other members of our group to get her dogs on leashes since she wasn't able to verbally call off her dogs. Surprise, she had NO LEASHES with her. Instead she had the audacity to put the blame on our group of dogs and took no responsibility for her own dogs and their aggressive behavior.

Well after all was said and done, and my dog limped for the rest of the walk back to the vehicle, I thought how do we enforce the rules so these situations do not occur ? If there are any ideas I would gladly help so my fur babies can have an enjoyable time instead of traumatic with injuries.

As a last note, regarding the on-line vote, ( even though I personally have been voting for the entire park), obviously with these situations occuring I see now how it would be a very bad idea. In my opinion there should be more areas designated as off leash and a suggestion would be to add the south east back field by the golf course.

I would appreciate if you could post this on the site

Thanks

Rhonda B.